


most people aren't like you

by troubadore



Series: geralt fluff week 2020 [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25719526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubadore/pseuds/troubadore
Summary: I want to help you, Jaskier had said. Geralt snorts. No one wants to help a witcher. No one is ever kind to a witcher, because witchers are not kind.No one except Jaskier, apparently, who is following a witcher around on a whim and singing his praises—and who is not dressed for cold weather, because he is an idiot following a witcher around on a whim.orGeralt has to keep his new bard warm
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: geralt fluff week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860493
Comments: 21
Kudos: 337
Collections: Geralt Fluff Week 2020





	most people aren't like you

**Author's Note:**

> alright lads we're halfway through [geralt fluff week](http://geraltfluffweek.tumblr.com)! prompt: cuddling / hugs
> 
> it's the obligatory Cuddling For Warmth fic because are you a real geraskier writer if you don't write at least one

Geralt fully expects the bard—Jaskier, he calls himself—to give up the idea of following a witcher around for inspiration after a week or two. 

The ordeal with the sylvan and the elves doesn't phase him—much—so he figures letting him tag along and learn what it means to walk the Path will be eye-opening enough. Some people need to learn through personal experience, he thinks, and Jaskier seems like one of those people who have to make mistakes himself to understand the consequences his actions and decisions have. 

That was in the summer. 

Winter is setting in now, and Geralt glances over to watch Jaskier mutter to himself as he pulls his jacket closer around himself, his shoulders up at his ears. He's not outfitted in the slightest for the weather, still clothed in flimsy, bright-dyed silks, and his teeth chatter as the chill bite of the wind turns his cheeks pink. He looks utterly miserable. 

And yet he's  _ here.  _ Here, with Geralt, in the cold and the snow, instead of holed up in court somewhere where there are willing bodies around to keep him warm and sated with food and sex. He complains about it enough, how traveling with a witcher means none of the luxuries he's used to, and how much of a  _ tragedy  _ it is. 

Geralt wonders why he's still here, then, if that's how he feels, but men make very little sense. And Jaskier, he's learning, makes even less sense than anyone. 

_ I want to help you,  _ Jaskier had said. Geralt snorts. No one wants to help a witcher. No one is ever kind to a witcher, because witchers are not kind. 

No one except Jaskier, apparently, who is following a witcher around on a whim and singing his praises—and who is not dressed for cold weather, because he is an idiot following a witcher around on a whim. 

Geralt ignores the budding warmth in his breast and rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Bard." 

Jaskier's muttering stops and he looks up at him, blue eyes wide. The chattering of his teeth does not stop, and he curls further in on himself, leaning closer to their fire. "What? Is something wrong?" 

"Your teeth are going to crack at this point," Geralt says, watching with amusement as Jaskier's cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

"Not my fault I'm not built for this weather," he says petulantly. "Not all of us can just sit out in the cold for as long as we like. Are witchers cold-blooded? Is that why you can stand the freezing winds?" 

Geralt's brow lifts, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "We run hot, actually. Weird side-effect of the mutations."

"Bastard," Jaskier sulks, pouting at the fire. "Of course you do." 

"Jaskier," Geralt says, and when he has those blue eyes on him again, he holds out an arm and says, "Come here." 

Jaskier eyes him suspiciously but doesn't hesitate to stand and move closer. He takes a seat beside Geralt and then leans into him, tucking himself into Geralt's side as his arm comes around his shoulders. Geralt pulls his heavy cloak around them, and it makes an immediate difference: Jaskier's shoulders relax their tension, and he blows out a relieved breath. 

"Oh, that's nice," he sighs, and his arm snakes around Geralt's waist so they sit in a more comfortable embrace. He tucks his nose into Geralt's neck, and Geralt almost flinches at the ice-coldness of it. Almost. "That's really nice. Thank you." 

Geralt hums. He pulls Jaskier a little tighter against his side. "Didn't want to have to listen to your moaning if you lost your teeth." 

"Sure, sure," Jaskier agrees, in that way that says he doesn't buy a lick of the bullshit coming out of Geralt's mouth. "Purely selfish reasons to make sure I don't freeze to death. Absolutely. I'm sure there was nothing in that white-haired head of yours that wanted to do it out of the kindness of your nonexistent heart. I understand." 

"I'm not kind," Geralt says. 

Jaskier's arm squeezes around him. "Not at all," he agrees. "Admit it, though. You like me  _ at least  _ a little." 

"You're a pest." 

"But one you  _ like,  _ right?" 

"Don't push it." 

"You wouldn't survive if you lost my charming anecdotes and sweet melodies," Jaskier says, sounding sure of himself. "Now that you've got them, you'd be at a loss without them. I have that kind of effect on people. I know I'm irresistible." 

"Irresistibly hard to not want to hit, maybe," Geralt says, and he feels the urge to grin again when Jaskier makes offended noises and gently hits him in reprimand. 

Most people wouldn't dare act so familiar with him, too afraid of what he might do in return. Not Jaskier, though. Jaskier sees right through him and has apparently decided he likes what he sees. 

Geralt...doesn't hate it. He thinks he should, that maybe he's supposed to. Witchers don't have friends. They don't have people who joke with them and sing songs about them and follow them across the continent just because. Most people can't stand them long enough to get past the fear. 

But, he thinks, Jaskier isn't most people. Jaskier is...Jaskier. 

He thinks that's not such a bad thing. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/troubadorer) and [tumblr](http://geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek.tumblr.com) for more geraskier goodness~!


End file.
